


Crime Solving Cats

by orphan_account



Series: Feline Friends and Family [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Catlock, Cute, Fluff, M/M, cat!Sherlock, cat!john, even cat!Sherlock is smarter than the detectives at the Yard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's been a murder! But if Scotland Yard can't solve it, who can? No, surely you don't mean... but he's a cat!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crime Solving Cats

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So, I know I haven't updated in FOREVER, but I've been really busy so I don't have a lot of time to write. Hopefully I'll have a bit more to give you over the next few weeks, but it mostly depends on how much work I get.

Sherlock stretched out on the sofa, trying his hardest to ignore the sounds slipping into the room from the world outside. The few days of glorious sun had transitioned into a week of pouring rain. The small drops of water hitting the sidewalk created a constant pounding that Sherlock found both oddly comforting and highly unsettling at the same time.

He rolled onto his other side so that he was facing the rest of the room. He looked over to where John was curled up on the chair, fast asleep. John found the sound of rain to be entirely comforting. Sherlock growled softly. He had had nothing to do for days on end and was now quite bored.

Mrs. Hudson chose that moment to return to the flat. “Hello, dears!” she called as she took off her coat. John startled awake for a moment, eyes on Mrs. Hudson, before he decided that everything was fine and went back to sleep.

Mrs. Hudson came further inside, sitting down on the couch next to Sherlock. He mewled softly but didn't move. She chuckled, running her hand over his silky black fur. “Don't worry, love,” she whispered. “I'm sure this rain'll let up at some point.” Calmed by Mrs. Hudson's warm, gentle hands, Sherlock slowly let himself drift into sleep.

When Sherlock woke up a few hours later, the rain had lightened and he could tell that it was going to stop soon. Another thing he could tell was this: Lestrade had a case!

Sherlock raced over to John's chair, calling up to him until he awoke. “John!” he meowed. “John! There's been a murder!”

John sighed and grumbled sleepily. “Why is it that you can't just enjoy normal cat things?” he said, but got up all the same, stretching out his muscles to make himself more alert.

“Like what?” Sherlock asked. “Normal cat things” were not his area of expertise.

“Like... sunbathing.”

“Dull,” he responded. Besides, it wasn't that he didn't _like_ it, it was just that there were more interesting things to do.

John jumped down off the chair, landing with a little less grace that Sherlock might have. He looked up into the black cat's eyes, finding them shining excitedly.

“So, where's this murder?”

*** 

Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade stood over the victim's body, trying to gather all of the information he could. It wasn't going as well as he had hoped.

Donovan was in the middle of telling him of what she had gathered from the rest of the apartment when Anderson's irritated shouts rang out from the ground floor. “Shoo! Get away from here! You'll contaminate the evidence!”

Lestrade turned around to find a pair of cats sitting in the doorway. “Oh, not you two again,” Donovan groaned, but Lestrade smiled. Truth be told, he was quite fond of Sherlock and John. Besides, it wasn't the first time they had shown up at a crime scene, and last time they had actually been rather helpful. Donovan went to shoo them away, but Lestrade stopped her. “Leave them be,” he said. “These cats are clever. They might actually end up helping.” Donovan gave him a suffering look, but did as she was told, leaving the cats sitting in the doorway as she left the room. 

Lestrade watched as the cats made their way into the room, John walking over to sit at Lestrade's feet while Sherlock made his way over to the body, sniffing the victim's neck and investigating the pool of blood that poured out from the side of her head.

“anything interesting?” John meowed from Lestrade's side.

“Cologne.”

“What?”

“Her attacker was wearing cologne, a rather expensive scent at that. He had money, probably a businessman if his footprints are any indication,” Sherlock explained, nodding his head towards a set of footprints on the dusty floor. It appeared as though the attacker was wearing dress shoes. “The wounds on the victims head sow that she was hit repeatedly with a blunt object. Now, a businessman with money enough to drench himself in expensive cologne couldn't walk down the street carrying an object that would fit the description of the murder weapon without it being questioned, so he would have gotten rid of it before he left the building. Even Anderson would have noticed if it had been stuffed in the closet or thrown out the window, but he is, however, still an idiot and would _not_ have noticed the loose floorboard on the stairs.” Without another word, Sherlock dashed out of the room, John following close behind. Lestrade, curious and expectant, moved to the doorway to see where they went.

Sherlock stopped on a step a little more than halfway up the staircase. “Here,” he meowed to Lestrade, who had followed them down the hall. “Here!”

Lestrade made his way down the stairs as Sherlock meowed incessantly. The rest of the Yard shot looks at him, thinking him entirely mad to believe that a couple of _cats_ could solve the crime. 

“I'm here now,” he said as he stopped next to Sherlock. John, who had understood what Sherlock was getting at, nudged the next step up with the top of his head. The floorboard was indeed loose, and it lifted up a bit when he did so.

Comprehension began to dawn on Lestrade as well, and he knelt down to lift the board away entirely. Underneath it was a heavy, wooden baseball bat, covered in blood from when it had been bashed into the woman's skull. “We've got the murder weapon,” Lestrade called to the rest of his team, shocked that Sherlock had actually been able to work it out. To John, however, this came as no surprise, and he walked back home with Sherlock, feeling very proud of his mate.

*** 

A few days later, the criminal had been caught. The Yard had lifted his fingerprints from the bat, as he had been too stupid to take measure to prevent that, and was able to track him down with relative ease. Lining up with Sherlock's deductions perfectly, he was a well-to-do businessman who had killed one of his clients after a deal gone wrong. 

As soon as the case was over, Lestrade decided that he ought to pay a visit to 221B Baker Street. He knocked politely on the door, and was soon greeted by the smiling landlady.

“Good afternoon, Detective Inspector,” Mrs. Hudson said kindly. 

“Hello, Mrs. Hudson.”

“I take it your case went well?”

“Yeah, about that...” he said somewhat sheepishly, reluctant to admit that while he was unable to solve the case they had been working on, a couple of cats had solved in in a few minutes. Still, he decided, it needed saying.

“I don't know how you trained your cats to solve crime, but they are bloody brilliant.”


End file.
